On the Benefits of Caution
by periwinkled
Summary: "I can't believe the two of you.  Are you honestly telling me that you have been dating for months without either of you being aware of it?"  He didn't really know how to answer that.  "…No?"  Ben/Leslie
1. Waffle O'Clock

_Disclaimer: This is a story about characters who don't belong to me. Written after Episode 3x09._

It happened gradually. So gradually that Leslie wasn't even really aware of it, though Ben certainly was. In the 17 years since his mayoral debacle, Ben had learned two main things: to always proceed with caution, and that happiness doesn't come easy. The latter was the primary reason he was so off-kilter around Ms. Leslie Knope: she made him happy with such seeming ease, and he just didn't know what to do with that. So he opted with the tried and true: caution.

He knew he sometimes went moony around her; he couldn't seem to help it. He knew that some of the people in their social circle had probably noticed. But she hadn't seemed to have clued in yet, and that was what was important. So he stuck with the status quo.

If he felt like stopping to grab coffee from a shop rather than drink the stuff at the office, he'd pick her up a white chocolate mocha with extra chocolate and extra whipped cream. If she stopped for coffee, she would bring him a latte with a shot of espresso. A few days a week, they would eat lunch in the courtyard or, in the colder months, at J.J.'s. If she needed to do a walk-through of one of the parks, she would usually invite him along, "to get you out in the sun!" At the office, she would often drop in to bounce ideas off of him or chew through a problem, and he soon found himself doing the same thing. They're areas of expertise were pretty different, which they both found brought great perspective.

From the outside, none of their workday encounters seemed planned, and on Leslie's side they most certainly weren't. She was, as ever, spontaneous. If she thought of him, she would talk to him. It was the way her mind worked. And if Ben sometimes came back to the office bearing waffles when he knew she'd be working late (Tom liked to drop in and bounce his—considerably more ridiculous—ideas off Ben, too, and he usually ended up inadvertently giving Ben the information on Leslie he actually wanted), well then, that's what friends did.

The way his heart beat whenever she bustled into a room and the thoughts that seemed to occupy his mind from the end of one workday to the beginning of the next, they were his and no one else's. And for now, at least, that's how he wanted them. He liked they way their relationship worked, and the fear that filled him at the idea of changing it was all his, too.

* * *

><p>Leslie was a pretty damn smart lady. It wasn't that she wasn't aware of the way Ben's cautious smiles made her chest constrict or the warmth that filled her when she looked up from her computer to find him standing casually in her office doorway. She knew they were there, just as she knew that Ben was one of the best, most reliable friends and colleagues she'd had the pleasure to know and work with. And because she did know all of that, and because Ben <em>was<em> a great friend and colleague, she took all of her extra heartbeats and daydreams and stowed them in a mental box to be dealt with later.

And if the idea that that later might never come made her feel a bit like crying, well, then that was her problem.

* * *

><p>And so it continued. Harvest Fest came to a triumphant conclusion, Ben took the job Chris offered to stay in Pawnee, and life—and Ben and Leslie's completely platonic friendship—went on.<p>

As weeks became months, things gradually changed. One evening Leslie called Ben after hours to work through a problem that had cropped up with their nascent observatory, and after she realized that he'd been awake and helpful after midnight, she did it again. Soon they were talking just about every evening.

One Monday morning, they both had the same idea about stopping to get coffee. Leslie walked in to discover Ben manually adding chocolate to her drink, so she walked to the counter and ordered his latte and they sat and drank together. It became a Monday morning tradition, meeting at the coffee shop at the insanely early hour they both seemed to favor, with whoever arrived first ordering the other's drink.

During one lunch at J.J.'s, when Ben finally caved and agreed to try the waffles, he commented that while they were good, that his grandmother's waffle batter recipe was really much better.

Leslie seemed ready to launch into an automatic defense of J.J., but the possibility of additional waffles froze her. "Do you…do you know how to make them?"

Ben shrugged. "Sure. I actually like to cook. I'll have to make them for you sometime."

"Let's do it now."

"What? I'm not making you waffles on a Wednesday afternoon immediately after we have both just eaten waffles. Besides, I don't have a waffle iron."

"I do! Ann gave me one for Christmas last year so I wouldn't eat out so much."

"Has it worked?"

Leslie gave a little grin. "It's still in the box."

Ben laughed, and tried to ignore the twinge around his heart that little grin of hers always seemed to cause. "Okay. How about Friday? There are absolutely no meetings that night that you might possibly have to attend. You provide the waffle iron, I'll bring the ingredients."

Leslie's sigh spoke volumes about her desire to try those waffles RIGHT NOW, but she smiled and agreed. "Friday. How does 6:30 sound?"

Ben smiled. "Sounds like waffle o'clock to me." Which was ridiculous enough of a statement to keep them both laughing long after they'd settled the bill.

Back at the office, Leslie opened her red planner to write "6:30—BEN'S WAFFLES!" and then chuckled to herself.

Across the room, Tom was reclining in his chair, crumpling up sheets up paper and trying to juggle them. "What's so funny?"

Leslie glanced up. "Oh, nothing. Ben's going to make me waffles on Friday." She snorted. "At waffle o'clock."

Tom let all of the crumpled balls fall and sat up abruptly. "FINALLY."

Leslie cast him a baffled look. "What?"

"You are FINALLY giving that boy what he wants—"

"To…make me waffles?" she interjected, but Tom kept going.

"—and having an ACTUAL DATE."

"What? It's not a date." Her stomach quivered. It wasn't a date.

But Tom was caught up in the sound of his own voice. "IT IS ABOUT DAMN TIME."

"Don't be stupid, Tom." April spoke up from the doorway, where she stood with one uncaring shoulder hitched in a perpetual half-shrug.

Leslie smiled at her, pleased. "Thank you, April. It's just—"

But April wasn't looking at her. "They've been dating for months." She turned her gaze on Leslie and gestured her chin towards the front entrance. "That guy is here."

It was her 2 o'clock appointment, which Leslie would later realize she couldn't remember a word of.

* * *

><p>Waffle o'clock on Friday arrived, and if Ben noticed anything different in Leslie's behavior, he didn't let on. Leslie had unpacked the waffle iron; Ben laid out his ingredients and got to work. What started out as nervous babbling on Leslie's part soon fell into the patterns of their normal conversation in the face of Ben's unfailing calm. And the waffles, as it turned out, were fantastic.<p>

As she devoured the last, whipped cream-soaked bite, Leslie sighed. "Well, now you've done it."

Ben had been eyeing her incredible collection of newspapers where they stood stacked precariously in a corner of the living room. He glanced back at her. "Pardon?"

"You're ruined waffles for me forever! I'll never be able to be satisfied by J.J.'s now." She gestured at him with her fork. "You'll just have to…to move in and make me waffles for the rest of my life."

"Okay."

"What?"

All of a sudden, they both seemed to realize exactly what they'd said. An awkward silence descended.

Ben cleared his throat. "I mean, it's the least I can do, right? Since I ruined waffles for you." There was another beat of that awful silence. "Although I would argue that what I really did was introduce you to the true potential of waffles."

That little grin made it's way onto Leslie's face. "They were really good waffles, Ben."

He nodded regally, pleased as the world seemed to right itself around him. "Thank you."

Leslie stood and reached out her hand. "Here, hand me your plate. I'll wash up."

After that first, weekly dinners became another tradition, one they both referred to as "waffle o'clock" regardless of what Ben was actually cooking.

A few weeks later, Ann dropped into Ben's office. He glanced up, surprised to see her. She and Chris had a friendly relationship, occasionally working out together, but that was the extent it. It had been a while since she last popped into the office. Ben sat back from his computer. "Hey Ann. Chris is out on his lunchtime run. Aren't you having lunch with Leslie today?"

Ann raised an eyebrow at the last bit, but refrained from commenting on Ben's apparent familiarity with Leslie's schedule. "We just finished. And I'm not here to talk to Chris."

"Oh. Okay. Well then, what can I do for you?"

"I know what you're doing."

Panic skittered up Ben's spine although he hadn't yet figured out (a) what Ann was talking about, and (b) whether she was actually angry. "What…what am I doing?"

"With Leslie."

"I'm not—"

"You've _tricked _her into dating you!"

"I haven't—"

Ann moved out of the doorway to pace the room as she spoke. "It's actually a very clever idea. As competent as Leslie is, she's like an infant when she's in a new relationship, and what you're doing has skirted that issue neatly. You're spending time together, more time than I've ever seen her spend with the guys she was _actually_ dating, all under the guise of friendship."

He still couldn't tell if she was angry or not, but it seemed like she was working her way up to it. "But we—"

She stopped pacing and pinned him with a glare. "You're what?"

"We _are_ just friends!"

She started to laugh, but something made her stop. Probably the desperation he could clearly hear in his own voice, he thought wryly. "You're serious."

Ben nodded. Ann studied him for a moment, and then started to laugh again. Unlike her previous outburst, which had had a derisive edge to it, this laughter sounded almost hysterical. She dropped into a chair and let her head fall into her hands as her shoulders shook in helpless laughter. He cautiously stood and circled his desk to approach her. "Are you okay?"

She lifted her head and wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. "I can't believe the two of you. Are you honestly telling me that you have been dating for months without _either_ of you being aware of it?"

He didn't really know how to answer that. "…No?"

Her laughter died, and she went back to studying him. "No. You knew. Or if you didn't realize at first, you do now. Am I right?"

His face defaulted to baffled, though he knew for a fact that it was indeed panic running along his spine. She wasn't angry, which was somehow even more terrifying. "Leslie and I are just friends."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you're not crazy about her."

His gaze shot to her face and then ricocheted off to an empty corner of the room. "Well, of course I _like_ her, she's a hell of a lady."

"Ben."

He forced his eyes back to hers, but said nothing.

She had apparently decided not to press him anymore, because she bent to grab her purse from where it had fallen beside the chair and walked towards the door. "You probably don't deserve this, but…you know, whatever it is you _don't_ feel about Leslie, I'm pretty sure she doesn't feel the same way."

The word shot from his mouth before he'd had a chance to martial his tongue. "Really?"

Ann glanced back at him and nodded, as if confirming something to herself. "That's what I thought."

And then she was gone, and Ben was sure that it was only a matter of days before it all came tumbling down around his head. But then, for whatever reason, it didn't. Ann had evidently decided to keep her peace. And the relief that Ben kept expecting to feel never came.

**A/N: "Waffle o'clock" is my new favourite phrase. And meal.**


	2. Rainbows On Fire

_Disclaimer: This is a story about characters who don't belong to me. Written after Episode 3x09._ _Gary, Indiana is all Meredith Wilson's._

It had been six months since April and Andy's surprise wedding, and the young, odd, spontaneous couple had astonished everyone by, well, actually making their marriage work. Andy was no better at competently running the shoeshine stall and April was still the worst assistant that Ben had ever seen, but what they really seemed to excel at was being committed to each other.

Which isn't to say that there weren't still open bets in City Hall on how long the marriage would last. However, Ben saw them together and apart nearly everyday and had to admit that for all their quirks, they seemed to be genuinely devoted to one another. In fact, he found it kind of…inspiring.

The couple could often be found sitting together in the shoeshine chairs at random points during the day, and it was after passing them thus one morning, as they laughed together while Andy told some story which apparently required loud, accented voices, that Ben came to a realization that actually made him stop in his tracks.

Andy, usually so oblivious to most social cues, actually noticed Ben standing stock-still in the hall.

"Hey, man!" he called genially to Ben, "You need your shoes shined?"

Ben turned towards them to answer. April was glaring at him in such a way that he thought he might actually risk physical pain were he to answer in the affirmative. "Ah, no. No man, I'm good." He dug out a smile to shoot at Andy. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime! We're saving up for a nicer place, so I gotta ask everyone!"

April's gimlet-eyed glare softened at Andy's words and she nearly smiled. "The place we have is fine."

"No way, babe! We're gonna get that other one you liked better, don't worry." He reached out to sling his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm not."

"Well, good luck with that." Ben turned away from the couple and continued on his way to his office.

Oh, yeah. He was tired of being cautious.

* * *

><p>Leslie was researching constellations. She was determined that their observatory was going to be the best in Indiana (and probably in the country), and the more she knew about stars and the night sky, the more she could talk it up. She was so intent on her computer screen that she didn't notice the visitor standing in her doorway until they cleared their throat. She looked up.<p>

"Ann!" A horrible thought occurred to her, and she glanced at the clock on her desktop monitor. "Is it lunchtime? Did I forget lunch? Was it my turn to buy? Oh, shoot!"

Ann laughed. "No, no, I'm on shift through lunch today, remember? I'm on my way to the hospital now, actually. Maybe today's one of your lunches with Ben…?"

Leslie looked at her planner and brightened. "It is! Oh, and it's nice out so we can sit in the courtyard."

Ann shook her hands like pom-poms. "Yaaaaay! So how are things with you guys?"

Leslie could feel herself blushing but she wasn't entirely sure why. "Good! They're good. He's such a great friend. And he's a great cook. Almost as good as you are!"

"And he's easy on the eyes, too, right?"

"What? Oh…yes. I guess he is." She cleared her throat. "So, when does your shift start?"

"In thirty, I've got to get going. You don't have any plans tonight, correct?"

Leslie glanced back at her planner, noting that today's entry had the evening blocked out with the words "Keep clear for Ann." "Oh, tonight's the night you wanted to do something. What is it? Drinks? Dancing? Ladies Night at the Snakehole?"

"No, that's next week." Tom called from across the room without glancing up from his GQ.

"Thank you, Tom!" Leslie called back.

"None of those things, actually. Tonight we're doing my birthday present."

Tom looked up at that. "Ooh, that sounds promising."

Leslie's face fell. "Tonight? Really? Can't we do it next week? Or next month? Actually, I think December is really good for me—"

"You're disgusting, Tom. No, Leslie, it's tonight. You promised."

"Yes. Yes, I did. Okay." She took in a breath, then let it out. "Until tonight."

Ann headed out the door. Leslie went back to her stars.

Tom called to both of them. "Can I watch?"

"No!"

* * *

><p>Ann made one last stop before heading to work.<p>

"Hey Ben, are you busy tonight?"

Ben slowly sat back from his computer, where he'd been constructing a spreadsheet, understandably wary. The last time Ann had stuck her head in his office, she'd yelled at him.

"Ann Perkins!" Chris stood, the perpetual look of glee upon his face.

Ann only glanced at him. "Hey, Chris. Sorry, I'm running a little late." She turned her attention back to Ben. "Tonight? Busy?"

Ben was still wary. There was something about this that felt like a trap. "No. Why?"

"Great! Be at Leslie's house at 6." With that, she was out the door.

Ben chased her down in the hall. "Ann! What is this about?"

"I'm sorry, Ben, I really am running late for work. We're moving some stuff out of Leslie's house and could use some help."

Comprehension dawned. "Whoa. What'd you do to get her to agree to that?"

Ann grinned. "Ambushed her on my birthday and made her promise."

"Diabolical. Okay, I'll be there at 6. Oh, do you want me to ask Chris? He could be helpful."

"I thought about that, but Andy will be there, so we've got strong arms. Chris would probably try to feng shui the place, which I think would be a little too much for Leslie to handle."

"Got it."

* * *

><p>Ann had been conducting this project in stages. After the initial agreement, she had had Leslie divide the boxed items in her house into categories based on varying degrees of emotional attachment. She had already agreed to donate everything in the bottom three categories, and Ann was hoping that once they got going, they'd be able to talk her into more. When it came down to it, Leslie Knope enjoyed a good project, and momentum could accomplish many things.<p>

When Ben arrived that evening, he discovered Leslie in a plaid work shirt, with a look in her eyes like they were there to kill her dog. Ann was arguing with Leslie's silence in a cheery voice. "Just think how much more room you'll have! I bet a lot of this stuff ends up with collectors who'll value it and put it on display instead of just in a box."

Leslie sent Ben a pleading look. He couldn't help but smile back at her. He wanted her to be happy, but her house really was a mess. "How'd you end up with so much stuff, anyway? I mean, the newspapers I can understand…sort of, but what about the rest?"

"Oh, well, I try to take all of the classes offered by the Parks Department at least once, and I really do like to do some of them, even if I'm not all that great." she gestured to a nearby box full of misshapen clay pots and birdhouses. The birdhouses were actually pretty solidly built, there were just…a lot of them. "Oh, and anytime a new little store opens up in town, I have to buy SOMETHING. You know, to support the local economy."

"Is that why you have three large boxes of scented lotion and bath salts?"

"The town went through a sort of 'Bath and Bodyworks' phase."

"Right. Well, it's good you're donating them."

"Oh no, those are staying."

"Leslie!" Ann approached from the back of the house carrying a bag of wooden spoons. "You would have to spend the next 10 years in the bath tub to use all of those!"

Leslie went into her classic Leslie Knope fighting stance, but Ben's mind had blanked at the image Ann had painted.

"Ben!"

Ann's voice brought him abruptly back. "What?"

She smiled as if she knew exactly where his mind had gone. "Can you take these boxes out to the van, please?"

He glanced around him. Leslie was nowhere to be found. The boxes in question were the ones containing bath salts. Apparently Ann had won that argument while his mind had been…otherwise engaged. Christ, how long had be been out of it? "Yeah, sure."

Despite the rocky start, true to Ann's prediction, Leslie soon got into the spirit of things. She agreed to cull the newspapers back to the last year only (aside from those depicting "important events," which led to an argument about what actually constituted an "important event"), kept only her favourite 5 pieces of pottery (though they all looked about the same to Ben), and two birdhouses ("If more than two birds show up, then they can _share_, Leslie!"). There were numerous other collections of things that went out the door; afghan blankets, pillows in embroidered cases, lots and lots and lots of books. They filled Andy's buddy's van floor to ceiling. Ann's car had bags and bags of stuffed animals, all of which were going to the hospital's children's wing. After Andy, April, and Ann all drove off, Ben ventured back into the house.

It did feel much larger without all of the boxes, though he found he'd gotten accustomed to the towering pile of newspapers. He found Leslie in what he guessed was the spare room on the second floor, kneeling over a couple of paper-filled boxes.

"It's going to be weird not having so many spoons to choose from the next time I make dinner."

Leslie chuckled and turned to face him. "I think there might be 10 left down there."

"Oh, that's alright, then." He smiled at her. "So…what's all this?"

"Stuff from school. Papers I wrote, mainly, but other things, too."

"Are you sure you want to get rid of all of this?"

"Oh, not ALL of it, no, but…" she shrugged, sheepishly. "Some, maybe. Once I got started, I figured I should look."

"You want some help?"

"Yeah, sure! I'm mainly looking for stuff I've got duplicates of."

"Sounds simple enough." He walked over to kneel next to her. "Oh, I almost forgot. I rescued one." He offered her a small glass container.

"Bath salts?" She laughed. "Thank you, Ben!" She gave him a quick squeeze as she inspected the label. "Oh, and they're Sweet Pea, too, that's my favourite! How did you know?"

He shrugged. "Just a hunch." He certainly wasn't going to tell her that he'd sniffed about twenty of the suckers until he found one that made him think of her.

They got to work, pawing through the boxes. For the most part they were silent, though he would occasionally question her on the topics of various papers. The ones she'd chosen to hold onto were unsurprisingly in the subjects of history and politics, and checking the dates against the topics, he found himself repeatedly impressed by how critical a thinker she was at such a young age. There were also certificates of merit and commendations on her grades, attendance, and frequent community service.

When he came across yet another commendation, he laughed. "You never missed a day of school from Kindergarten to 12th grade? Why is it that doesn't surprise me?"

She grinned at him. "I didn't miss any days in preschool, either, but they didn't count those."

"Well, that doesn't seem fair."

"That's what I said!"

Near the bottom of the box, he stumbled across a bright orange, folded piece of paper, which stood out in the sea of white. "What's this? A playbill?"

She glanced over at him and her eyes lit up. "Oh! That's from _The Music Man!_"

"You were in a musical?"

She snatched the playbill out of his hands. "Uh-huh. Every year, the senior class put on a play. I convinced them to do _The Music Man_ so that we could change the words in 'Gary, Indiana.'"

"What?"

"It's a song in the show about a town called Gary, Indiana. But there's really nothing in the song _specific_ to Gary, and since the number of syllables are the same, I lobbied to change the words of the song to 'Pawnee, Indiana,' instead."

"Of course." He smiled. "How'd that go?"

"Oh, everyone just loved it! The director had been a little scandalized, but the town got such a kick out of it."

"No, I mean how did the song go?"

"Oh!" Her cheeks colored a little. "You want me to sing it?"

His smile widened at her discomfiture. "I would love for you to sing it."

"Alright." She took a deep breath, and then launched into a rousing (and pretty on-key) rendition of the song.

Pawnee, Indiana, Pawnee Indiana, Pawnee, Indiana,

Let me say it once again.

Pawnee, Indiana, Pawnee, Indiana, Pawnee, Indiana,

That's the town that "knew me when."

If you'd like to have a logical explanation

How I happened on this elegant syncopation,

I will say without a moment of hesitation

There is just one place

That can light my face.

Pawnee, Indiana,

Pawnee, Indiana,

Not Louisiana, Paris, France, New York, or Rome, but-

Pawnee, Indiana,

Pawnee, Indiana,

Pawnee, Indiana,

My home sweet home!

She finished, arms theatrically outstretched, and immediately collapsed in helpless laughter. She looked up at Ben, expecting to find him laughing as well, but he was nearly frozen, a little smile on his lips and an odd light in his eyes. She sat up a little. "Ben?"

"I love you."

Now it was her turn to be frozen. She watched his face, watched the surprise that flitted across it, and then the worry. "What?"

"I didn't mean to say that."

"Oh." She started to get up; still not sure what was happening or how she felt about it.

"No, no, wait. Please. Leslie." He held a hand out to stop her, but kept his distance.

She stilled, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I spoke without thinking, but that doesn't mean I didn't mean it. I know this is kind of out of the blue, and I really don't want to do anything to screw up our friendship, but I…just couldn't go on without saying anything."

"April told me that we've been dating for months."

She sounded thoughtful. Ben figured it could be worse. "Ann said the same thing to me."

Leslie smiled at him. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. She thought I was doing it on purpose, actually. She accused me of tricking you into dating me."

"Well, you are pretty sneaky."

He laughed. "Only compared to you." She chuckled at that, but was still strangely subdued. It was odd, and so very un-Leslie. "Could you say something, maybe?"

"Were you doing it on purpose?"

"No! I mean, not really. I liked you, and I liked being with you. Leslie, you made me happy in a way that I haven't felt since…well, since Ice Town. I wasn't trying to trick you into anything, I just wanted to spend time with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, good." She flashed him a smile. "I like you, too, Ben. A lot. The dating thing scared me because I didn't want to lose all of the great times, but apparently we're actually pretty good at it."

"We are."

"Yeah."

At this point, they were both sitting cross-legged on the floor, papers and boxes forgotten.

"I'm going to kiss you."

"Yeah?"

He grinned, he couldn't help it. "Oh, yeah."

"Go for it, Ice Town."

Which made his eyes flash in a way which was neither sweet nor gentle, but hell if it wasn't full of promise. And then his hand was in her hair and his lips were on hers and her hand was on his thigh as she leaned into him and it was good, incredibly good. With a groan, he dragged her into his lap and she twined her arms around his neck and it went on. She pulled back to gasp for air, and he immediately buried his face in her neck, nipping and nuzzling.

She let her head fall back to give him better access. "Okay, you're pretty good at this."

He chuckled against her skin, which sent shivers down her spine. "I've been thinking about it long enough."

She stilled and he looked up. "Really?"

He raised a hand to frame her jaw and rubbed the tip of his thumb along the corner of her mouth. "God, yes." The question was still in her eyes, so he elaborated. "Like, within the first week."

Her eyes widened. "_Really?_ But I was so angry with you! I called you Mean Ben and you were, well, really mean."

"I know. I've had to be Mean Ben in a lot of towns in order to do my job, and I never had anyone fight me the way you did. Do you know what you look like when you're determined to right a wrong?" She shook her head. His thumb stayed put, rubbing her lips with the action, which made her shiver again. "You're like a rainbow…on fire."

Those lips curved against his thumb. "I'm like a rainbow on fire?"

He laughed. "Ok, bad analogy. The point is, I couldn't look away. Even when you were driving me mad, even when I wanted to fire you, you were breath taking. That hasn't changed."

She tightened her arms around his neck and pulled herself up to rest her forehead on his. He moved his hands to wrap them around her and keep her there. "No one's ever called me a rainbow on fire before."

"Leslie, I'm crazy about you."

"I do love you."

That slow smile tugged on his lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Sorry I didn't say it earlier. You caught me off-guard."

"I caught me off-guard, too. Your song did strange things to my brain. Sing it again."

"No."

He pressed his lips to hers again and lingered. "Please?"

"Will you stay tonight?"

"Will you sing it again if I do?"

She laughed. "No."

"Oh, well, alright." Moving one arm under her knees, he scooped her up as he stood.

"That, Mr. Wyatt, was one smooth move."

"Why, thank you, Ms. Knope."

He headed out the door and chose a direction at random, hoping they were headed towards her bedroom. She rested her head on his shoulder and gave a little sigh. "Tomorrow's Saturday, right?"

"Right." He stepped over a box that had been abandoned in the hall and nudged the next door open with his foot. She reached out to hit the light switch. Bedroom. Thank God.

"So do you think tomorrow it can be waffle o'clock all day?"

He kicked the door shut behind them. "Hell, yes."

**A/N: **Confession time. This entire story came about because I was singing "Gary, Indiana" in the car and decided to replace "Gary" with "Pawnee" because I am a giant nerd. This is the closest I will ever come to writing a songfic. "Gary, Indiana" is actually a real song, and it is a good one. There's a link to the youtube video on my profile page. Enjoy!

Oh, also: this is as far as the story got in my head, but damn if I don't want to write about some Leslie/Ben babies. So I'm going to mark it Complete, but don't be shocked if you get an additional chapter or an epilogue! Of course this all might be moot if I can't think of another dumb thing for Ben to say. What else am I going to call the chapter?


	3. Mrs Wyatt and Mr Knope

_Disclaimer: This is a story about characters who don't belong to me. Written after Episode 3x09._

He couldn't seem to pull in a full breath. His chest felt so constricted that he actually looked down at himself to make sure that his shirt and vest hadn't shrunk. His brother must have sensed his discomfort, as he reached over to rest a hand on Ben's shoulder.

"Benjy. Breathe." His words were solemn, but his tone was amused.

"I'm trying to," Ben replied through his teeth.

It wasn't that he was nervous; it wasn't even that he expected things to go wrong. It was just that in Pawnee, things had a tendency to go sideways when you least expected it. He had done everything in his power, called in every favor he could think of, to ensure that everything went off without a hitch. But now it was too late. If anything happened now, it was essentially out of his control. And he certainly didn't want _her_ to have to deal with it.

He reached up to tug on his tie. Had he tied it too tight? Jesus, what if he choked while standing up here?

His brother spoke up again. "Your tie is fine. Everything is fine."

He pulled in another strangled breath. "Right."

The whirring sound of an electric engine came from behind the line of trees that blocked his view of the rest of the park. What the…?

"I'VE GOT EVERYTHING BLOCKED OFF, MS. KNOPE! NOBODY'S GONNA DISTURB YOU ON YOUR SPECIAL DAY."

He'd only met him once, but it was a voice that Ben doubted he'd soon forget. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Ron valiantly fight to keep a solemn look on his face.

Beyond the trees, there came another murmur of voices.

"WHAT'S THAT?"

"I SAID THAT'S GREAT, CARL, THANK YOU."

A helpless smile spread across his face, and suddenly Ben could breathe again. What the hell had he been thinking? This was Pawnee. Chaos was inevitable.

And he couldn't think of a better place to spend his wedding day.

* * *

><p>Leslie was micromanaging. She wasn't doing it on purpose, it was just sort of happening. Ann adjusted the neckline of Leslie's dress for the hundredth time at Leslie's request and tried to sooth her nerves. She thought that Carl's interruption would have broken the tension, and then she realized that Leslie wasn't actually tense. No more than she was at any public park event. She was just being Leslie.<p>

"Is it better now?"

"Leslie, it looks perfect."

"It feels crooked."

"It's not crooked, that's just the way the dress is draped."

"Are you sure?"

"Leslie, how many times have you put on this dress before today?"

Leslie had found the dress, a simple white silk column with a deep V-neck, on her first and only foray in Indianapolis to look. That had been about four months earlier. "…a lot."

"Right. And has it ever been crooked before?"

Leslie shot Ann a begrudging look. "No, it hasn't."

"No, it hasn't. You need to just relax, honey. You look beautiful."

"April, the clasp of your necklace is showing."

April rolled her eyes but did nothing. Ann shot Donna, who was inspecting her manicure, a pleading look. She glared in response, but walked over to April to fix it.

Ann gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Donna."

Leslie wasn't satisfied. "Oh, but it's still—"

"Leslie." Ann gripped her friend's shoulders and waited until she'd met her eyes. "In a few minutes, Andy is going to start playing, and you are going to walk down that aisle. I guarantee you, you'll take one look at Ben and it won't matter to you if we all have toilet paper stuck our shoes."

Leslie's eyes widened in alarm and she tried to look around Ann at their shoes. Ann tightened her grip. "_We don't,_ but it wouldn't matter anyway. All that's going to matter is you and Ben. Okay?"

Leslie closed her eyes and nodded. "You're right. I know you're right. But can everyone check their shoes for toilet paper anyway?"

"Fine."

Soft strains of music seemed to waft in through the dense tree branches as Andy began his (fortunately much improved) instrumental rendition of "What A Wonderful World." Leslie straightened and resisted the urge to peek around the trees. "That's it, that's the signal!" She turned to face her bridesmaids and maid of honor and suddenly her eyes filled. "Oh!" It was April who reached out first, then Ann, and finally Donna enfolded them all in a group hug. "I love you all so much."

"We love you, too. Now." Donna pulled back and the others followed suit. "Why don't you go get hitched?"

Leslie sniffed back the last of her tears. "I think I will." She watched April pick up her bouquet and had a sudden panicked thought. "Wait!" Three pairs of eyes turned to her with varying expressions of exasperation. "Does everyone remember how to walk?"

* * *

><p>April came down the aisle first, and actually managed to look less bored than usual. Not quite as excited as she had been on her own wedding day, but it was close. To his right, Ben heard Andy say to someone "That's my wife!" in a voice that was probably as close to a whisper as Andy Dwyer could get.<p>

Donna walked next, and cast a wink at Ben as she took her place next to April. Ben wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing. He found the grin that Ann aimed at him as she approached much more comforting. And then everyone was standing and there she was, finally. Leslie Knope. His Leslie.

Her eyes looked a little wet, but she had that unstoppable smile on her face, and Ben realized he was smiling back at her just as widely.

Everything went off without a hitch. Sure, Carl could be heard loudly warning people away from the ceremony a few times, and at one point a crowd of Japanese tourists (who Carl had apparently missed) gathered at the end of the aisle and snapped photos. Ben heard his brother murmur to Chris "Who brings a busload of tourists to Pawnee, Indiana?" and Tom's snorted laughter in response, but it was all peripheral. In the end it was just Leslie and he, grinning at each other like a pair of idiots.

And then they were married.

They'd rehearsed the traditional recessional, with Andy playing something else on the guitar, though Ben couldn't remember for the life of him what song it was supposed to be. He was kissing his wife.

He could vaguely hear their guests cheering, and then the cheering got abruptly louder as Andy, who had also evidently forgotten he was supposed to play another song, ran over and caught them both up in a hug. Leslie laughed in delight and hugged him back, which the other guests seemed to take as a sign and soon they were in danger of being crushed in a massive group hug. Just as it occurred to Ben to be concerned, he heard Ron shout, "Alright everybody, it's time to eat!" and then with slightly less volume, "And there had better be a goddamn cake this time."

The crowd moved towards the pavilion where food and a temporary dance floor had been set up. The wedding party hung back for a quick session with the photographer, and then the attendants were dismissed and it was just Leslie and Ben standing under the widest, oldest tree in Ramsett Park.

The photographer, a young woman who had come highly recommended by the community center's photography teacher, was going for some candid shots, so she encouraged them to "Just act natural."

Leslie grinned up at Ben and found him steadily looking down at her with an expression she couldn't quite read. "What is it?"

He cleared his throat and glanced at his feet before meeting her eyes with a bashful grin. "I know you're keeping your name, but can I call you Mrs. Wyatt? Just once?"

Her face settled into a thoughtful expression as she considered his request. "Well, that depends. Will you still respect me as an individual woman capable of making her own intelligent decisions?"

Considerably better at detecting her sarcasm than he had been a year and a half before, he nodded solemnly. "Absolutely."

"Well, alright then. Just once."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned in to touch his forehead to hers. "I love you, Mrs. Wyatt."

Leslie reached up on her tiptoes to connect her lips with his and chuckled. "I love you back, Mr. Knope."

**A/N:** Okay, you get one more chapter. And one without any waffles at all! (Though if you'd like to imagine that their wedding guests are dining on waffles and calzones, you'd be perfectly justified in doing so.) The dress Leslie is wearing is the "Silk tricotine Cecelia gown " from J. Crew. It's the closest I could find to the dress in my head. Ben is wearing a shirt in a subtle check (I read a story-don't remember which, sorry!-which put him in pale gray on white check, which I thought sounded lovely), a dark gray vest, and I think probably a brightly colored tie. Green, maybe, or a saturated blue. It isn't necessary to the story, but it's the picture I had in my head while writing this and I couldn't find a way to include the information in the story that didn't feel clunky. So bonus for you, readers of Author's Notes!


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